"Pastor in Houston Publicly Comes Out as Atheist" - News Coverage Displays a Amazing Lack of Empathy

I just read the story about the Houston Pastor who publicly came out as an atheist. If you haven't yet, the link can be found here. The story doesn't provide his reasons - neither for losing his faith, nor for making this public - but of course they interview plenty of churchy people who are, of course, all shocked and disgusted. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. But around the 2:30 min. mark of the video they interview some Keith Jenkins, who is described as a "Former School of Theology President". And he gives us his opinion on those still-in-closet-atheists who still serve as Pastors:

"They need to move on. They don't need to stay within the church. And especially use their position to try to take others with them."

(emphasis mine)

I find this quite sickening, for what it reveals about the speaker. The moment these people were described as "atheists", they stopped being humans to him. They became evil things, dangers that every good christian needs to be protected against. His conclusion is clear: They need to leave the church. Now. He fails to make even the most basic connection, fails to see any implication of the situation at all. Somehow he jumped to his conclusion so quickly that he forgot that a pastor, every pastor, is somebody who has made a decision. He is somebody who based his entire life on his church. Clergy who lose their faith stand to lose it all: Not just their job (that part's for sure), but likely also both their friends and their family. Worse, they never learned anything that might be even remotely useful for a different job. What are you going to do with a degree in theology when no church will hire you? But this doesn't even enter good Keith's equation; it doesn't even cross his mind. To him, atheists are evil destructive elements, which need to be kept away from church. And of course the only reason an atheist might stay in the church at all is to "[ab]use his position to try and take others with him." For the sheer hell of it, supposedly. You know, simply because that's what we atheists do: Destroying other people's faith and eating babies.

I can think of no more obvious "no way out" scenario than a priest without faith. Such a person may pretty much write a book or go hungry - there is almost no imaginable employment. There is also an enormous loss of trust by friends and family who will all feel betrayed when he tells them that he's been living a lie for who knows how many years.
Again, the fact that they are literally no options for somebody faced with this scenario is glaringly obvious. But not to the likes of Keith Jenkins. He doesn't see the obvious - he only sees evil that needs to go away.

There are very few things in the world today that I find more scary than the fact that this kind of Person earns his money preaching "love thy neighbor" but is unable to see anything but evil when faced with personal tragedy.

Atheist Churches: I've Been to One.

The proposal to build an 'Atheist Temple' in the center of London has roused more controversy among the atheist community than any other issue before. Richard Dawkins immediately respondet that the money could be better put to better use. PZ Myers has already sneered at the very thought of something like that some time ago.

Meanwhile in the town of Düsseldorf, Germany, a kind of church service for atheists already exists. And it thrives. The semi-regular series of events is entitled "Aufklärungsdienst"; a play on words: derived from the german word for religious mass, "Gottesdienst" (which literally translates to "god's service"), and "Aufklärung", the German name of the historic period of the Enlightenment. Since its conception in 2009 it's been a huge success. The Düsseldorfer Aufklärungsdienst (DA) aims to pick up where the Enlightenment of the 16th century left, eroding away the dominance of religion by offering a better alternative: Humanism.

We want to be a counterpart to religious service, but at the same time we don't want to be a dry gathering of intellectuals.

Nonreligious people account for over 45% of Düsseldorf's population, but the influence of the churches on public affairs is growing. With the Aufklärungsdienst, Ricarda Hinz and her co-thinkers want to offer a forum for those without religion, help them find an identity away from faith and superstition.

Most of the atheists who oppose the idea of churches of non-belief cringe at the idea of secular ritual. I'm not quite sure what the critics imagine such a ritual might look like - perhaps herds of people unthinkingly repeating statements like "extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence" in a slow chorus and with an air of solemnity (in which case I could actually understand their aversion) - but allow me to give you a more realistic impression of what it was like:

As the lights slowly dim, the band starts playing - an interpretation of John Lenon's Imagine. While the music plays, the event coordinators walk slowly down the aisle. Ricarda Hinz is leading, solemnly carrying the event's mascot on a velvet cussion. It's a golden plumber.

The plumber gets signed by the speaker and the musicians at the end of the evening, and then is sold for €100 or the highest bid. "The plumber is our saviour", explains Ricarda. "One hundred euro covers the room's rent for the evening, so the plumber has the power to release us from our financial burden."
This tongue-in-cheek-attitude is what sets the Aufklärungsdienst apart from all other secular events I've witnessed. It's not just intelectually stimulating, it's fun. There are no grave discussions of the seriousness of our societal situation, there is no frustration at the forlornness of the never-ending fight against ignorance and superstition, there is no dry lecture on the sociology of religion.

Instead there is information presented in an entertaining way, and perhaps more importantly a sense of community is offered to a group of people who often feel like outcasts in a society that is permeated with religion on every level.
The evenings are not fun and games devoid of intellectual content either; the main component is still of informational nature. Besides the main speaker, there may be secondary speakers or secular entertainers of various kinds (My personal highlight was a reading from the "rhyme bible", a revised and annotated lyrical version of the creation story). As I already mentioned, the entire thing is accompanied musically. The bands differ, but the first song they play is always 'Imagine'. Snacks are provided, and you get to stick around for a lively discussion afterwards.
Rather than just some scientist holding a boring lecture accompanied by nothing but his poor powerpoint-skills, the presentations are a collaboration of the speaker and various secular artists. Even a lecture on a topic as dry as church finances becomes exiting and even hilarious when it is illustrated by caricatures from a great cartoonist, such as local icon Jaques Tilly.
The Aufklärungsdienst has just more to offer than your average freethinker's pub meeting. The events are intelectually stimulating entertainment; they are information coupled with community-building; they serve as a hub for networking among freethinkers.

Finally, for rationality to compete with religion on the marketplace of ideas, to transform society towards a culture of compassion, tolerance and reason, it takes more than presenting ourselves as merely not them. To make an impact we need numbers, and temples and services to celebrate Humanism might be just the right thing to finally let the public know about all the riches our philosophy has to offer.

My Tattooed Ode to Reason

I love tattoos. I plan to be covered head to toe at some point in the future, though I'm in no particular hurry to get there. Over the past few weeks, I've become aware of an increasing number of atheist-themed tattoos out there. A quick google search for "atheist tattoo" reveals most of them as rather unimaginative: Various versions of the letter "A" prevail, some more clever ones include pictures of the flying spaghetti monster or the invisible pink unicorn. In between there is the occasional tattoo depicting the desecration of various religious symbols - rather tasteless if you ask me. Also I find it kinda weird to go through such lengths to ostentatiously demonstrate the non-identification with a single particular idea. If I were to get a tattoo about each and every topic I strongly disagree with, I'd run out of skin by the end of the week.
Personally, I derive far greater enjoyment of more positive tattoo motives: All those nerdy scientists, for example, who choose to express their love for their respective fields by displays on their skin.

Of the ideologically motivated tattoos, one in particular caught my attention:
The CEO of the British Humanist Association got a tattoo of the Happy Human - the internationally recognized symbol for Humanism - tattooed on her upper arm as part of a fundraising effort. They aimed for 20.000 pounds, any sum beyond that goal would increase the size of the tattoo she got.
I like that a lot better than depictions of a broken cross in a garbage bin. I also like it better than the rather boring "Scarlet A"-logo. What I did not like about the story was the realization that, had I read that story when it was still news, I could have copied the fundraising-idea when I got my own Happy Human tattoo in June 2009:

I love the Happy Human logo. Happiness and People are all what Humanism is about, and the symbol captures that nicely while being a simple, adaptable, and beautiful form.

The other tattoo I'd like to show you is both a little more complex and a lot larger; The motive is an 18th century etching done by a spanish artist called Goya. It goes by the lovely title 'The Sleep of Reason Brings Forth Monsters'. Here it is, in all its considerable beauty:

The Original 'Sleep of Reason'

The Tattooed Version

Above all, I chose this because I simply admire the picture. It's a masterpiece. I don't care much for what else I've seen of Goya's works, but this one has always resonated with me. The combination of the lyrical title with the rather dark motive I have always found fascinating, in particular the little details like how the cross-eyed staring of the ghostly animals conveys an atmosphere of insanity that is outright scary.

Another reason, of course, is the message. As I have written before, the simple absence of religion is not sufficient to really improve anything. "Good" requires more than just the absence of "bad". Goya nailed it (see what I did there?) when he wrote that the sleep of reason is what produces monsters. There are thousands of people out there who believe in god and live perfectly benign lives, not obstructing stem cell research, not shooting abortion doctors, nor trying to corrupt the science curriculum by demanding that biblical creation be taught in our kids' schools. Religion is merely a multiplying factor, not the danger itself. What we need is not so much less religion - it is more reason.

The Supposed Absurdity of a Life Without God

It's one of those things theists ask me: If I don't believe in a God or an Afterlife, if there is no higher purpose, why bother living at all? Might I not just as well die and save the hassle? What difference would it make if you'd die today rather than in 50 years?
For some reason, they think this to be a very profound question. It really isn't. In fact, I find the question rather preposterous. Whoever asks it is implying that if they wouldn't believe in a God/Afterlife/Higher Purpose, if they believed life was finite, if believed that life ends at the grave, they would certainly not bother living - Which I think is a rather pathetic statement to make and a testament to a lack of serious consideration of the matter.

Let's try an analogy: Why do you ever go on a holiday trip even though it inevitably ends? Even though there is no higher purpose to it other than that you enjoy it? How can you enjoy a sunset over a beautiful beach if the time you spend there is finite, if it's only two weeks before you'll have to go back to the same old life in the office again?
If theists were actually serious about this mindset, I should expect them to step out of the plane, take a look around the astonishingly beautiful place they've landed, frown, and say something like:
"Pff... yeah it's nice, but so what? How can I enjoy this stay, knowing I have to leave eventually?
Of course, if there was a book subjecting me to nonsensical rules during my stay and promising me that, if I subject to these rules, I get to go on an even better, eternal holiday after this one, then, and only then! could I enjoy my brief stay in this wonderful place."

So, does it make a difference whether I die tomorrow or in fifty years? Certainly not to the universe, that's true. Maybe not even to other people, though I like to think it does. But be that as it may, in any case it does make a rather huge difference to me, and I don't know why I should need any more incentive than that to go on living. I am not opposed to suicide; If you are in full control of your mental faculties and make the informed and well-considered decision that your life really just isn't worth it any more, I think it's your right to end it. But as for me, well, I really like living. For now at least. I enjoy my life, and I will go on living it as long as my life stays enjoyable. So the short answer to "why do you bother living?" is because it's fun. Being alive simply seems to be a more enjoyable state than 'not being alive' - so I'd rather live than not.

In the end it's simply a pretty nonsensical question to start with. Living is a bit like having sex: Affirmative is the default position. The question shouldn't be Why?, it should be, Why not?

How to Settle the Burden of Proof

I want you to picture a guy, let's call him Paul, walking into an urban police-station. Beaming, he proclaims that he knows what happened to the dead body that was found in the river five days ago; that he's solved the mystery.

Let's assume that by some random chance, or maybe out of desperation, the police actually take him seriously. So they ask him in, lead him into a room, sharpen their pencils, switch on the tape-recorder, and take a statement. This is how it goes:

PAUL: "You ready? Can I start?"
OFFICER: "Sure. Please tell us what you know."
PAUL: "You see, he was murdered. Frank did it."
OFFICER: "Frank... Frank who?"
PAUL: "Well, Frank of course. Frank Frank. Who else would I mean?"
OFFICER: "..."
PAUL: "..."
OFFICER (With disappointment at the realization that this won't be the clue they'd been hoping for): "That's it? That's what you came to tell us?"
PAUL (Genuinely puzzled): "What do you mean? I told you what happened. What more could you want?"

We could imagine this going on indefinitely, but this little conversation is enough to illustrate my point. Merely tossing a name out there and proclaiming that a murder took place is not the same as truly solving the mystery of an unidentified body.
Yet, this is exactly how religious people tackle the question about the origin of our universe. They proclaim that it was "made", and that it was "God" who made it. And then they lean back, satisfied with their accomplishment of having "solved" the mystery, gaze us a beaming smile, and react confused when we reject their "explanation" as preposterous and stupid.

To complete the analogy, let's have Paul defend his thesis by proclaiming that it's more likely Frank committed a murder than that the water of the river simply morphed into a dead body.
This is analogous to the claim frequently made by theists that, due to the apparent fine-tuning of our universe, it being made is more likely than it just coming into existence "by a giant explosion". Of course, nobody ever said that a giant explosion was the origin of the universe, just like nobody at the police-department proposed that the body is actually magically transformed water of the river.
The Big Bang Theory is actually not about the origin of the universe: Like the police, we're still pretty clueless regarding that mystery; like the police, it's likely we'll solve it eventually. What the Big Bang Theory actually is about is the early development of the universe: The theory states that the universe transformed from a very hot, very dense state to a less hot, less dense state, which is analogous to the police stating that it's very likely the case that the body they found was, at some point in the past, alive. It's something we know beyond reasonable doubt. It's something we can prove pretty much for sure.

There are tons of people like Paul out there; People who really do not see the problem with the sort of oversimplified skyhook-explanation they give for complex problems. They are ubiquitous, and while they tend to be annoying, their existence does not actually bother me.

What does bother me is that my analogy fails in one very important point: Paul the potential witness is regarded as a lunatic by society, and will probably find himself in a mental institution in the near future. Paul the theologean, on the other hand, is a highly respected member of society, gets invited by TV-stations to comment on enormously important political topics and has a huge influence on public opinion regarding an incredible variety of topics.

The Morals of an Atheist

It’s about time I do a post that I can simply link to whenever somebody asks me just what I base my morals on without the possibility to look to the perfect word of a divine creator. How can there be objectivity when I can’t stick to God’s written rules?
The answer is actually quite simple. My morals are based on compassion and, well, Just a Little Common Sense: “suffering” is bad, “happiness” is good – so I seek to minimize harm and maximize pleasure. Empathy makes me recognize that other people too seek happiness, each according to their own subjective definition of what “happiness” is, and reason tells me that cooperation and a mutual agreement not to stand in each other’s way is the most efficient way for all of us to achieve that.
The fact that (mentally healthy) human beings are capable of empathy is also the reason why cooperation is a better way to achieve happiness than an ego-trip and stepping on other people’s heads to climb a little higher: Seeing others suffer is a bad feeling in itself. Causing others to suffer even more so. Creating happiness for others, on the other hand, is a great source for our own happiness.
Most people would agree that not having to worry about existential problems and having a fulfilling social life fits the definition of a happy life better than making a dad you hated proud by becoming rich and despised all on your own.

So really, being good without god doesn’t really have much to do with godlessness. Coincidentally, being good with god doesn’t, either. Wether you’re a believer or not, try to just be nice to people and trust that they’ll be nice in return. As a general rule, whether one is religious or not has little bearing on this one way or the other. I’d venture to say that religious belief is more of a hinderance than a help in leading a good life, but that’s a topic for another post.

The bottom line of this one is that religion sure as fuck is not a prerequisite.